


Steve's 100th Birthday

by BucksomeBarnes (Freckled_Halos)



Series: the Assembled Avengers Initiative [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Birthday Sex, Coming Out, Fighting, M/M, Tuxedos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-01 12:03:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15142673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freckled_Halos/pseuds/BucksomeBarnes
Summary: Steve's turning 100 and The Smithsonian invited him down for a birthday/Independence Day party. The formal event brings up the "out" discussion again, Bucky being tired of hiding and Steve not feeling ready to be that open yet.





	1. The Days Leading Up

MARCH 2018

 

Steve sighed heavily, shifting on the bar stool and clicking out of various windows on his laptop.

Bucky glanced over at the back of Steve’s head where his hands were scrunched up in his short hair. 

“What is it?” Bucky asked from the couch, setting the knife he was sharpening next to the others on the coffee table.

Steve turned, leaning an elbow on the kitchen island he was sitting at, looking tiredly at Bucky. “I just got an email from the Smithsonian Museum of American History.”

“About what?” Bucky asked.  

Steve ran a hand down his face and sighed again. “They want me to go down there for the 4th of July, for some big party that sounds hot and crowded and uncomfortable.”

Bucky smirked at him, resting his forearms on his knees. “Would this ‘big party’ perhaps be for your 100th birthday?”

“Ugh,” Steve whined, letting his head fall back and slackening his arms. “Don’t say that.”

“Oh, please,” Bucky laughed.

Steve slipped off the stool and walked around the coffee table, flopping down next to Bucky on their dark leather couch.

“I’m sorry, but the last thing I want to do on my birthday is recite a speech _about myself_ and make awkward conversation with a bunch of strangers.”

“Are you going to say no?” Bucky asked, playing with a stray piece of hair sticking out above Steve’s ear.

Steve let out a long breath. “No, I should go. They said it would be part charity event, to whatever cause or causes I chose, which is really nice. They’re also temporarily bringing back the Captain America exhibit that’s been traveling around the country.” Steve smirked and took Bucky’s hands in his own. “I hope they’ve revised that part about you dying. That could get awkward with you there.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I’m going now too?” he teased.

“Of course,” Steve replied, smiling.

“The public has a bit of a harsher opinion of me than they do you.”

“I don’t care,” Steve shrugged. “By now, your…history is public knowledge. People know who you are and who you aren’t.”

“Okay,” Bucky started, warily adding, “but would I be going with you or… _with you_?”

Steve’s smile faded and he let Bucky’s hands go. “We’ve talked about this, Buck.”

“I know, I just…” Bucky glanced away for a moment, collecting his thoughts before turning back to Steve. “I’ve spent so much of my life pretending to be someone else. Whether that was with you before the war, or the last 60 years I spent under someone else’s control. I’m just tired of it. It’s a shitty feeling and now that I feel like I have a bit of a fresh start, I want to do it how _I_ want to do it this time.”

Steve sighed and looked at his hands now wrung up in his lap. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” he said quietly.

Bucky turned back to his knives, trying not to get upset. He picked some grime off one of them with a fingernail as he avoided Steve’s gaze. After a few moments, Steve let out a short breath and got off the couch, swiping up his laptop before marching into their bedroom and shutting the door.

Running dirty hands though his hair, Bucky sighed and slumped back into the cushions.

 

 

APRIL 2018

 

Once he started thinking about it, Steve didn’t think he’d ever been to a black tie event. It seemed silly that his first would be for his own birthday. And his _100 th _birthday, no less.

“Alright…thanks, honey…love you too.” Tony hung up his phone and turned to Steve who was leaning in the doorway of Tony’s shop. “Pepper will take care of you guys. She said Happy will pick the tailor up on Thursday and bring him here. He just needs yours and Barnes’ measurements and fabric preferences et cetera and the tuxes will be ready by June.”

“Okay,” Steve nodded. “Thanks, Tony.”

“I can’t believe we’re finally popping your tux cherry,” he said with drama, picking his soldering iron back up. “They grow up so fast!”

Steve rolled his eyes and turned to leave until Tony said his name quietly.

“I know you’ve been out of the ice for a while, but you do know things are different now, right? You’ll lose some fans of course—shitty ones—and the internet will tear you apart in both directions, but if it means you get to go public with Barnes, isn’t it worth it after all these years?” Tony’s face was completely genuine and it took Steve a little by surprise.

“I—”

“I know,” Tony raised his hands up. “It’s none of my business. I’m just sayin.’” He crouched back over his work table and continued repairing one of the Iron Man boots.

Steve took that as his cue to leave and he shoved his hands in his pockets, walking back down the basement hallway towards the elevator.

 

 

MAY 2018

 

Bucky was propped up against the headboard, his hair falling softly to his shoulders. He was relaxed, legs loosely crossed in plaid pajama bottoms as he read.

Steve eased onto the bed and checked his phone before setting it on the side table and turning towards Bucky.

“The museum people are taking care of the hotel,” he said. “Tony’s arranging a private plane there and back, but the hotel for the nights of the 3rd and 4th are covered.”

Without looking up, Bucky quietly asked, “did you ask for two rooms?”

Steve flushed and looked at his hands. “I said one was fine...” Bucky turned his head, looking at Steve with a hope that absolutely killed him to crush as he added, “as long as it had two beds.”

Bucky clenched his jaw and looked at intently at Steve. “If that’s how you feel, why don’t you find another bed for tonight? You don’t seem to want to share this one.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Bucky,” Steve hissed, angrily rolling off the bed to stand and pace the room. “Don’t fucking do that. I’m sorry I’m not where you are yet, okay? I’m sorry, but what do you want me to do about it?”

Bucky set the book down in his lap and crossed his arms. “Since when do you care what other people think about you?”

“It’s not that—”

“Then what is it?” Steve could tell Bucky was mad, but was trying to quell it in order to have a conversation instead of an argument. “What are you so afraid of? You’ve never backed down from anything in your life, what is it about this that’s so different?”

Steve continued pacing, running hands through his hair. “I don’t know. I don’t know, Buck. I…”

Bucky shifted and looked earnestly at Steve. “I’m not going to pressure you into anything and I’m not going to out you, you know that right?”

Steve nodded.

Bucky continued. “I love you and I respect you, but can you see that’s frustrating for me? I’m ready, Steve, I’m good. Ninety percent of my dirty laundry is already out there for the world to see, why not add a little more? I don’t need some big to-do, but hiding it is exhausting and you know that. You must feel that too.”

“I’m not stopping you from saying anything about yourself,” Steve replied.

Bucky gave him an unbelieving stare. “You know if I do that, they’re going to automatically assume about you too. People suspect it _now_. If I actually publicly came out, in any way, I’m taking you with me, whether that’s how we intend it or not.”

Steve sighed and finally walked back to the bed, sitting and putting his head in his hands.

Bucky reached over and rubbed circles into Steve’s back. After a long pause, he whispered, “what kind of world do we live in that you get praised for killing in war and persecuted for loving in truth?”

Steve squeezed his eyes shut, burying his face deeper into his palms.

“We have enough blood on our hands,” Bucky murmured, leaning in to kiss Steve on his bare shoulder. “Why can’t we just _love_ for a little while?”

It all became too much for Steve who shot out of the bed and bounded into the bathroom, slamming the door. Bucky closed his eyes and let out a tense breath.

 

 

JUNE 2018

 

Steve had to remind himself to breathe as Bucky walked from their bedroom into the living room. He looked absolutely stunning in a bright white dress shirt, the jet black waistcoat and tuxedo jacket hugged his chest and arms in a way that made Steve’s heart skip. The bow tie around his neck was undone and he was in ratty striped socks as he stood, arms awkwardly splayed at his sides, hair let loose, making an uncertain face.

“How does it feel?” The tailor’s sudden voice made Steve jump in surprise, having temporarily forgotten he was there.

Pepper was also in the room, Steve remembered, as she said, “Oh, Bucky, you look so handsome,” from where she sat on their couch.

“It feels good,” Bucky forced out, embarrassed at the attention. “It fits well, I’m just not used to it…” he flexed his metal hand, the glint and shine of it contrasting against the crisp white shirt cuffs and soft black sleeves. Steve bit his bottom lip, trying to contain himself.  

“Come look at yourself,” the tailor coaxed, ushering Bucky towards the trifold mirror and small platform he had set up in the dining room.  

Bucky breezed past Steve sitting at the kitchen island in his normal clothes, the mix of his deodorant, shampoo, and natural scent wafting into Steve’s gobsmacked face.

Stepping up, Bucky took a few moments studying himself. His face was unreadable as he turned left then right, looking at himself from as many different angles as he could.

“What do you think, Steve?” He asked innocently, keeping his eyes on his own body.

Clearing his dry throat, Steve croaked out, “it looks really good, Buck.”

The tone in his voice made Bucky turn, looking him in the eyes and suppressing a shy smile.

Bucky hopped down and let the tailor peel the coat off of him from behind. “Alright, your turn,” Bucky said to Steve with a grin.

Steve slapped his hands on his knees and eased off of the stool, taking the garment bag the tailor handed him and stepped into their bedroom to change.

It took a few minutes to get everything situated, but Steve wanted a dry run of the entire outfit: tie, cufflinks, shoes, the whole nine yards. Combing fingers through his hair, he took a breath and walked out of the room, down the short hall, and into the main living space. Steve’s ogling earlier was reciprocated tenfold as he watched Bucky’s eyes from across the room obscenely rake him up and down, his mouth opening slightly as he crossed his legs at one of the dining room chairs.

“Steve,” Pepper breathed. “Oh my god,” she laughed.

Flushing, Steve stepped onto the small platform and looked in the mirrors as the tailor bent to double check hems and seams.

He looked good. He looked really good.

His tight waistcoat and jacket were a deep navy blue, the lapels a shining silk. The cut of the dress coat was flawless, flattering his broad shoulders and chest, tapering down to accentuate his small waist and hips. The pants were the perfect length, sitting just on top of his polished black shoes. Tony had gifted him the cufflinks which were small silver circles, engraved little miniature versions of his shield. The bow tie was navy as well and tied (semi-accurately) at the winged collar of his stark white dress shirt.

He felt a little bit like when he first put on the USO Captain America outift. A little wrong, a little costume-y, but this time he at least felt polished and professional. And attractive. That too.

Bucky let out a low whistle as he stood up and walked to Steve’s side, looking at him in the mirrors.

“Well?” Steve asked, knowing exactly what the answer was going to be.

“Fuck, Steve,” Bucky breathed as the tailor stepped away. “I can’t decide what I like better: you wearing this or being ripped completely out of it.”

Steve blushed deeper, looking down at Bucky’s awed expression.

The tailor began to gather up the rest of his things as he walked to stand next to Bucky. “It fits you like a glove, Captain Rogers,” he said. “Beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed. “Beautiful.”

“Alright, alright.” Steve dismissively flipped his hands around in the air, hopping down. “Thank you so much for this,” he said to the tailor.

“Oh, my pleasure.” He leaned in and mumbled, “you two are a lot easier to deal with than Mr. Stark.”

Steve and Bucky laughed lightly as the step was picked up and the mirrors folded.

“Thank you, Pepper,” Steve said as she helped the man out of the door and down the hallway. “We really appreciate it.”

She smiled warmly at him. “Of course. You both look wonderful and I’m excited for you guys. I think it’ll be a really nice trip, as much as I know you’d rather be here.”

Steve made a guilty face. “Well, sometimes duty calls. And it’s all for a good cause with a good organization, so it’ll be fine. Thank you.”

When Steve wandered back from the foyer to the main living space, Bucky practically leapt on top of him. Clamping strong hands on either side of Steve’s face, Bucky pulled him in for a wet and desperate kiss. Steve’s knees went weak as Bucky’s flesh hand slid from his face, down his neck and chest, to his crotch.

“Fuck…” he moaned into Bucky’s mouth.

“Get out of this,” Bucky replied breathily between kisses. “Now.”

It took much longer than Bucky would have liked for Steve to undress and carefully hang up each article of clothing and zipping it back up in the bag. They hung their outfits in the spare bedroom’s closet before running and jumping into their own bed together where they stayed for the rest of the day. 

 

 

JULY 1, 2018

 

“Are you prepared?” Thor asked through a mouthful of cheeseburger.

Steve shifted at the communal dining room table, poking at his plate with a crispy fry. “I guess? I’ve never done much public speaking about _myself_. Punching Hitler on stage a few hundred times? Sure, but taking to an entire crowd about Steve Rogers? No.”

Thor swallowed and took a gulp of his ale. “I’m sure it will be inspired,” he responded cheerily. “Just be yourself.”

Steve stared at Thor as he continued eating, working on his third burger.

‘Just be yourself.’ It was such simple advice, but what did that look like for Steve? Who was he when he was truly ‘being himself?’

 

 

JULY 2, 2018

 

Wedging the phone between his shoulder and cheek, Steve scrambled to find a piece of paper and a pencil. The woman from the Smithsonian was on the other side of the line, rattling off specifics about timing and locations and rooms and where they were sitting and how long things would take. By the time Steve finally found a notepad she added, “we’ll email you the full itinerary!”

He hung up and leaned forward against the kitchen counter, looking out to the living room where Sam was lounging on the couch, flipping through a magazine.

Sam caught his eye and flopped the magazine back onto the coffee table. “Everything alright?” He asked in a tone that was less of a question and more of a request to tell him what was wrong.

Steve sighed, putting his phone on the counter. “I don’t know.”

“What’s going on?” Sam asked, shifting to the edge of the couch to rest his elbows on his splayed knees.

“I’m freaking out, Sam.”

Sam was taken aback. “Why?”

“I’m just nervous. I don’t like all this attention focused on me and I’m stressed out because Bucky’s stressed out and pissed at me.”

“What’s he mad about now?” Sam asked, half-jokingly.

Steve shot him a warning look before answering. “He wants our…relationship…to be public. Or at least not a secret and I’m really struggling with it, man. I don’t know why, but the thought of everybody knowing…I don’t know. I’m not ashamed, but…”

“Just because he wants it to be out in the open doesn’t mean you have to. It’s both of your decision.”

“I know and he’s not pressuring me to do anything, but I know it upsets him.”

Sam sighed and sat back, crossing his arms against his chest. “I get both sides, I do. But it’s not fair of him to hold it over you like that.”

Steve closed his eyes and hung his head. Opening them, he looked past the dining room table and out of the floor to ceiling windows. The lawn was impossibly green. The tree line started a few hundred yards away from the building and went on for miles. A thunderstorm was rolling in.

“I hate this,” Steve whispered. “I hate feeling like I have to live in fear or in hiding or in shame.”

When he looked at Sam, Sam was looking back, a contorted expression on his face. “I don’t know what it’s like to be in your situation,” he started, “so I don’t have the best advice. But Steve, man, I can tell this is eating you up. What I can’t tell, though, is if it’s the hiding it or the fighting with Bucky that’s harder on you.”

Steve shook his head and shrugged. “I can’t tell either.”

“Okay. Let’s say you guys do go public. What would be the worst case scenario?”

Steve thought for a minute, furrowing his eyebrows. “Worst case scenario…the slander completely defames the Avengers as a whole and we’re actively fought against instead of looked to for help.”

“Okay,” Sam nodded. “So your biggest concern is for everyone else’s reputation?”

Steve looked at Sam, thinking. “I guess.”

“You know any of us would stand up for you no matter what, right? We all support you guys. Even when you’re gross and obvious and nobody wants to see it, we still want you two to be happy. We win as a team, we go down in some select few asshole’s homophobic history as a team.” Steve pulled a tiny smile as Sam said, “and your second concern is about people targeting you, which I totally get. But do you honestly think any of us, especially Bucky, would let anyone near you?”

“I mean, I don’t feel threatened physically…”

“Then how do you feel threatened?”

 Steve struggled to maintain eye contact with Sam’s intense stare as he came up with no answer. 

“You need to be needed,” Sam continued. “That’s just who you are and that’s fine. But no matter what, even if everyone else in the entire the world disowns you, you will always be needed by us. Your friends. Your family.”

Nodding, Steve looked at the kitchen counter in front of him, his chest tightening. Steve heard Sam stand up from the couch and walk to the opposite side of the island from him.

“Don’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” Sam started, bouncing his knuckles on the counter a few times. “But if you’re concerned about us, don’t be. And if you’re concerned about not being needed, don’t be. Even if everybody else in the world hates you for it—which they won’t—think about how you felt as a kid, questioning. Wouldn’t a public hero--who knew exactly what you were going through--have changed everything?”

Steve slowly looked up at Sam with glassy eyes. Sam’s expression was empathetic, with a tiny bit of smugness behind it. Neither of them said anything else as Sam walked out of the apartment, quietly clicking the door shut behind him.

 

 

JULY 3, 2018

 

“You got everything?” Steve asked Bucky as they walked out onto the tarmac strip at the Avengers Facility.

“Yes, Steve,” Bucky answered for the fifth time that afternoon.

They stepped up into the jet, small bags and suits in tow. The flight was just a little over an hour in which Steve wrung his hands together anxiously and Bucky napped. They landed at Dulles International Airport and were awaited by a driver who took them to their hotel suite a few blocks away from the National Mall.

The room was modern and spacious with a kitchenette they wouldn’t be using and a separate lounge area with a TV they wouldn’t be watching. The two plush king sized beds situated towards the back of the suite might as well have been two giant elephants.

As Steve hung their tuxedos in the closet, he eyed Bucky setting his duffel bag on the bed closest to the window. Walking over with his own bag, Steve put it on the left of the comforter, looking at Bucky warily.

“Can I sleep here?” Steve asked awkwardly.

Bucky gave him an incredulous look. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

“Well I practically got kicked out of my own damn bed the last time we talked about this, so I figured I’d double check,” Steve shot back.

Calming down, Bucky just murmured, “yes. Sorry.”

Steve sighed and rubbed at his eyes with his fingers. “Let’s just get some dinner.”

They ate at the hotel restaurant, hidden in a corner booth. It was quiet, both of them preoccupied with their thoughts. A mom and ten year old daughter asked Steve for a photo. They skipped dessert even though Bucky kind of wanted something before silently heading back to their room.

After the sun fully set over the Potomac, they settled in for the night. Steve was lying on his half of the bed, going over the next day’s itinerary on his phone. Bucky walked out of the bathroom, pulling his hair up into a bun.

“Hey, doll?”

Steve glanced up at Bucky standing at the end of the empty bed a few feet away. 

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. Tomorrow is a really big day for you and I want this trip to be nice and fun and as relaxing as possible and I’m being a total dick.”

Steve set his phone down and smiled sadly. He opened his arms and Bucky stepped over, perching on the edge of the bed and leaning into Steve’s embrace.

“You’re not being a dick,” Steve mumbled into Bucky’s hair. “I’m just nervous about tomorrow.”

“Do you want to go over anything?” Bucky asked, tucking his hands up between his cheek and Steve’s shoulder.

“No,” Steve answered, kissing the top of Bucky’s head. “I’ll be fine. Thank you, though.”

Bucky moved to get up, but before he did, Steve caught him by the wrist and pulled him down for a gentle kiss.

“I love you. More than anything,” Steve whispered, his breath ghosting across Bucky’s lips.

Giving Steve another peck, Bucky replied, “I love you too. So much.”


	2. The Day Of

JULY 4, 2018

 

When Steve’s eyes blinked open, he was vaguely aware of Bucky’s arms crossed and rested on his chest, bright eyes looking up at him.

“Steve,” Bucky hissed. “Steve, wake up.”

Steve just grumbled and closed his eyes, readjusting his left arm resting around Bucky’s shoulder and back.

“Hey,” Bucky said a little louder. “Hey, birthday boy, wake up!”

 Steve couldn’t help but smile, his eyes opening slowly. “Hey,” he muttered.

Bucky shifted, rustling the thick comforter and sheets as he pushed himself up to kiss all over Steve’s face, wherever he could reach.

“Ung,” Steve groaned with fake irritation. “Get off me.”

Bucky laughed and rolled over, sitting up and crossing his legs, looking directly at Steve. “Did you say ‘get off me’ or ‘get me off?’ I didn’t quite catch it.”

Steve laughed too and rubbed at his eyes, sitting up. Bucky’s hair was a mess, half of it falling out of the hair tie and sticking up with static. The perpetual circles under his eyes seemed a little darker this morning despite the happy expression on his face. Steve reached out and rubbed his thumb along the side of Bucky’s stubble.

“Don’t shave today,” Steve mused, running his fingers across Bucky’s lips.

Kissing at Steve’s soft fingertips, Bucky smiled. “Whatever you want. It’s your day, doll. How does it feel to be a whole century old?”

Steve grinned, dropping his hand. “Feels just like how 99 felt.”

Bucky playfully rolled his eyes before pivoting over and slipping off the bed. He stretched his arms up and yawned, showing off his beautifully shaped body. Bucky was strong, there was no doubt about that, but his muscle was gained in practical ways, not for aesthetics. He didn’t have a defined six pack or rippling obliques, but he was thick and solid as a tree trunk. Even after the serum Steve didn’t have much body hair, but Bucky had a generous amount on his chest, a line down his torso and on his lower abdomen, continuing underneath his waistband.

“What’re you staring at, Rogers?” Bucky teased.

His gaze sliding up from Bucky’s boxer briefs to his face, Steve smirked. “Just you, sugar.”

They ordered room service for breakfast and sat on the empty bed in their underwear, eating and laughing, quiet music drifting from Bucky’s phone into the room. Steve went through all of the texts and voicemails he had already received, grinning at how many genuine messages there were. After breakfast, they got dressed, made out a little bit, then left to do some sightseeing.

Steve only got recognized a handful of times, something he was extremely grateful for. In his civilian clothes, baseball hat, and sunglasses, it was relatively easy to blend into a crowd. Bucky’s metal arm, on the other hand, wasn’t as easy to hide. Steve suggested he wear a long sleeve shirt and a glove, but Bucky was having none of it (“Long sleeves, Steve? In Virginia? In _July_?”).

They visited a few of the other Smithsonian museums, war memorials, and statues. They stopped for a light lunch midday before getting ice cream and settling down on a bench in West Potomac Park. All day, Steve had wanted nothing more than to just hold Bucky’s hand or give him a kiss on the cheek. All day, he had just wanted to be with his best friend and love of his life enjoying each other on his birthday. All day, Steve was painfully aware of how much he held back in fear of judgement.

Picking up a snack first, Steve and Bucky headed back to the hotel around six to get ready for the dinner. They both showered, Steve attempting (and failing) to make his short, forward combed hair look a little more fancy. Bucky opted for a slick look, his dark hair pulled tight against his head, twisted into a neat bun at the nape of his neck. With the hair, shoes, and bow tie done correctly, Bucky looked even better in his tuxedo than he had last month when they first got them. 

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Steve pulled Bucky close, wrapping his arms around his lower back. Bucky laid his arms on top of Steve’s shoulders. Putting their foreheads together, Bucky whispered encouraging and endearing words as he moved his hands to rest along either side of Steve’s neck, rubbing gentle circles into his skin.

Their car pulled up at six forty five, taking them directly to the museum. It wasn’t nearly as bad as Steve had been bracing himself for. There were cocktails on the roof terrace while photos were being taken in front of the Captain America exhibit. Steve stood for what felt like hours, taking photos and answering the occasional press question. Bucky was in a few of the pictures, but he spent most of the following hour roaming around the exhibit or watching Steve do his thing. Which he did so well, whether he believed that or not.

Dinner began at eight on the terrace with room for a few hundred guests ranging from wealthy donors to museum curators and some federal government employees. The woman Steve had been in correspondence with, Laura, had organized the entire dinner and at eight fifteen she stepped onto the provisional stage set up on the north side of the building and settled behind the podium.

“Hello, everybody, and happy Independence Day!”

Steve and Bucky clapped along with the crowd from their seats at the giant round table closest to the stage.

“First, I want to thank the amazing staff of the Smithsonian National Museum of American History for making this possible.” More clapping. “And thank you all for being here. As you know, tonight is not only a celebration for the 4th of July, but to also support two wonderful organizations, who our special guest will tell you about in a minute.

“When I was a girl, my grandfather would tell me stories from World War II and about the grit, bravery, and determination exemplified by all of the men and women who served at that time. Much like our founding fathers, the veterans of World War II fought for freedom and democracy, two things that make the United States of America what it is today. Some of my favorite stories from my grandfather were about the amazing feats of none other than our very own Captain America.”

More claps. People craned their necks to glance at Steve who was reddening, but trying to smile and stay calm. Bucky set a comforting hand on Steve’s thigh under the table.

“But why hear about this from me? Why not hear it from the man himself? The man who turns 100 years old _today_. Ladies and gentlemen, on this very special day, I introduce you to Steven Rogers, our favorite, Captain America.”

The audience clapped as Steve stood on wobbly legs and walked towards the stage, stepping up next to Laura. She shook his hand and squeezed his forearm before walking off stage and reclaiming her seat at the table across from Bucky.

Looking out towards the crowd, Steve pulled notecards out of the inner pocket of his coat and placed them on the podium. The sun was beginning to set, shadows stretching long and grey towards the east. Steve still wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to finish this speech, but it was time to begin.

“Good evening everyone,” he started, squinting as a flash went off. He was painfully aware of the camera along the far wall of the terrace, streaming the event online. “I want to thank each of you for taking time out of your schedules to be here tonight. And thank you Laura, for setting all of this up. I can’t say I ever expected to see my 100th birthday, and I certainly didn’t picture it like this.” Light laughter. “But tonight’s dinner is more than that. Today we celebrate the birth of our nation. The anniversary of our founding fathers refusing to support an unjust government. Additionally, all proceeds and donations from tonight will be split between two wonderful organizations: Washington DC Veterans Affairs and Children’s National Medical Center who both do amazing work for the community and those who deserve it most.”

He flipped a notecard. “I was asked to come up with inspiring words to share with you all. Profound thoughts based on the years I’ve lived and the experiences I’ve gone through. And while I did grow up in the ‘30s and fight through a war,” he leaned into the microphone to mock-whisper, “I’m really only thirty three.” More laughter. “But in my thirty three years of waking life, I have learned many profound things. I’ve learned how to make ends meet and survive a Great Depression. I’ve learned how to draw. I’ve learned how to live through the loss of my parents. I’ve learned how to fight and stand up for what’s right. I’ve learned that aliens are real!” Pause for laughter. Looking directly at Bucky, he finished, “but most of all, I have learned about compassion and love.

“That might come as a surprise to some of you. Captain America, veteran of World War II, a founding member of the Avengers, standing up here talking about peace and love. But in all of my 100 years on this earth, I have never encountered anything more important. When I was chosen by Dr. Abraham Erskine for Project Rebirth, it wasn’t because I was strong. It wasn’t because I had any military experience and it wasn’t because I sought after it. But when presented with the opportunity to do my duty and fight for my country to protect those that I loved, there was no other option than to take it.

“Dr. Erskine was a wonderful man.” Steve cleared his throat and pulled another notecard. “He was extremely smart and talented and he was also very kind. The night before the Rebirth procedure, he told me to promise him something. That no matter what happened, to stay who I was. ‘Not a perfect soldier, but a good man.’” He cleared his throat again, trying to contain the emotions bubbling up in his chest. “I was never a perfect soldier, but I’ve tried my damnedest to be a good man. Being a superhero isn’t about beating up on bad guys or having cool tech or bragging about your powers. It means doing what’s right. It means standing up for those who can’t stand up for themselves. It means being brave even when you’re scared. It means using your opportunities, skills, and privilege to help people and to spread _goodness_.

“There will always be people trying to beat you down. Don’t let them win. Don’t let the cruelness of others color your world in a negative light. Those are the people who need our love and compassion the most. Behind all the walls and beneath all the barriers we put up to protect ourselves from the hardships of life, we are all ultimately trying to do the same thing: live our lives the best that we can. Operating under this simple truth, we are capable of so much goodness. Goodness being born from the understanding that we all struggle. None of us can do it alone and none of us have to.”

Steve paused. He looked down at his last notecard. That was all he had written besides some thank yous and goodnights. Looking into the expectant crowd, all the thoughts and worries that had been brewing in his head and gut for the past four months hit him at once. He cleared his throat for a third time, heart racing. Closing his eyes for just a second, he took a deep breath and opened them to look directly at Bucky. His eyes radiated pride and love, looking at Steve with pure adoration. The look in Steve’s eyes changed as his brain worked and in response, Bucky’s expression became the slightest bit wary and confused.

Standing up a little straighter, Steve gripped the edge of the podium so tight the wood began to split. He ignored it, looking into the crowd and taking a deep breath.

“I know I would certainly not be where I am today if it weren’t for the support system I’ve been lucky enough to maintain over my many years. And I want everyone out there who feels that they don’t have that to first know that I, myself, am in your corner and second, take a hard look around. Chances are, you will find people around you that want to love and support you no matter what. And sometimes those people show up in unexpected places.”

The following seconds passed like minutes to Steve as the white noise and scuffles of the audience disappeared. He let out a long breath and looked directly at Bucky, everyone else behind him fading away. Steve loved Bucky with everything he had. The weight of trying to contain that for the past 85 years hit Steve all at once and all at once, it was too much to carry anymore.

“My unexpected support came in the form of my childhood best friend, Sergeant James Barnes.” Bucky paled as he felt hundreds of eyes burn into him. “And I want to take this opportunity to publically thank him for everything he’s done for me. I can guarantee all of you that Captain America’s existence and success would not have been possible without him.” Steve smiled, his eyes crinkling up as he gazed at Bucky. “Buck, sweetheart, in my 100 years on earth I have never loved anything more than I love you. You’ve taught me how to love with all of my being, how to accept myself for who I am, and how to see the good in everyone. You’ve changed my life and you continuously amaze me. Even after all these years together, I’m still falling more in love with you every day.”

Steve was aware of more flashes going off and the hum of voices increasing, but ignored them as he focused on Bucky whose hands had flown to his face in shock, pressed together against his nose and mouth.

“If you all take nothing else away from tonight, please take this: be good. We’re all just trying to navigate life the best that we can, even Captain America. Live with kindness and compassion, but stand up for yourself and your morals. Protect what you love and defend what you believe in. We are sitting here today to celebrate the freedoms won by those before us to allow us a better life. We can’t forget that or take it for granted. So please, live with compassion, but also with conviction. Live with the knowledge that you are not alone. And live with love, for without love, there is no life at all. Thank you all for coming tonight and for your generous contributions. Please enjoy dinner and happy Independence Day. Thank you.”

He stepped more confidently down the stage than he did up it, slipping the notecards back into this jacket. The attendees present were mostly standing, clapping, as Steve approached his seat, Bucky standing to take him into his arms. Bucky buried his face into Steve’s neck and brokenly whispered, “I love you. I love you so much.”

Steve set a warm hand on the back of Bucky’s head and breathed, “I love you too. More than you could ever know” into his ear.

Steve could feel the phone in his pocket vibrating like crazy as his speech was received by his friends watching online from all across the country. He and Bucky sat back down as music began to play from hidden speakers. Wait staff appeared suddenly, serving the first course of dinner. Steve took Bucky’s shaky right hand in his and kissed his knuckles, the reality of what had just happened hitting Steve like a ton of bricks. He felt terrified and elated at the same time. Uncertain, but also more sure of himself than ever.

The rest of the night went smoothly. Various guests approached Steve and Bucky throughout dinner, all of them expressing happiness, pride, and admiration. Steve could tell a few attendees were disgruntled, but none of them approached him directly about it. Which was just fine.

They ended up ducking out around ten o’clock, tired and overwhelmed. On the car ride back to their hotel, Steve went through his messages, getting emotional at all the kind responses from people.

 

Natasha: _I’m so happy and proud of you, Steve. We’ll have to celebrate when you guys get back xoxo_

Tony Stark: _Well, well, well, look at you, Rogers, taking some of my words of wisdom to heart for once. And hey, you’re even trending on Twitter._

_Good for you, though. Honestly._

Sam: _You sneaky little shit! Finally. You’re a real hero, Steve. Proud of you. Love you, brother_

 

It was a lot of the same—people being nothing but happy and supportive. Steve hadn’t really expected anything else from those closest to him, but it was extremely reassuring to see it play out in front of him.

And Bucky was beside himself.

Steve still wasn’t ready for any real PDA, he was never really into that anyway, but he and Bucky held hands the rest of the night. They had stopped to take an official photo in front of the Captain America exhibit before leaving, Steve’s arm wrapped tightly around Bucky’s waist, Bucky leaning into him with one hand on his back and one on his chest. Steve can’t remember the last time he saw Bucky smile so wide.

They held hands in the hotel lobby, up the elevator, and into their suite. Upon entering the room, they both undid their ties, kicked off their shoes and shrugged out of their dress coats.  

“You didn’t have to do that, Steve,” Bucky said quietly, standing in front of the curtained window and unbuttoning his waistcoat.

“I know,” Steve replied, undressing on the other side of the spare bed. “But I wanted to.”

“What changed your mind?”

Steve sighed and shrugged out of his dress shirt. “I don’t know. All of a sudden, I was just okay. You're right, Buck, about it all just being exhausting. We’ve shouldered this burden for so many years, when I was up there, with the opportunity to do something about it, it suddenly just became too much.”

“I hope I didn’t pressure you at all,” Bucky replied, taking off his own shirt and untying his hair, shaking it out. “That was never my intent.”

Steve looked at him for a long moment. Bucky. His Bucky. Looking absolutely gorgeous standing in front of him in dark socks, black dress pants and no shirt, soft brown hair waving down to his shoulders. He looked so happy, happier than he’s looked in a long time. And that alone made it all worth it.

“You didn’t pressure me,” said Steve, stepping out of his dark blue pants and folding them on the empty bed. “You are more important to me than anything. I don’t care what anyone else wants to think about me or about us as long as you’re happy. That’s what I care about. I love you so much, Bucky, and I want to support you and give you everything I can. And if anybody wants to shit on me for that, they can fuck right off.”

Bucky laughed, unfastening his pants and slipping them off. “That’s my Steve,” he smiled. “Doing whatever the fuck he wants just because he wants to do it.”

Steve shrugged innocently before sauntering over to Bucky, placing his hands on Bucky’s hips. “Speaking of ‘doing it’…”

Bucky laughed harder, clasping his hands together behind Steve’s neck. “That is one of the worst segues I’ve ever heard.”

“Did it work?” Steve asked, looking at Bucky with that fake-coy expression.

Grinning, Bucky pulled him in for a deep kiss, sucking at Steve’s tongue and bottom lip. Pulling away, he whispered, “of course it worked.”

Steve practically growled as he hungrily licked into Bucky’s mouth again, sliding his hands from Bucky’s hips to his ass. He kneaded at Bucky’s cheeks, pushing them up and spreading them apart as Bucky moaned into Steve’s mouth.

“Tell me what you want, dollface,” Bucky breathed. “It’s your day.”

Pulling a wicked smile, Steve dropped to his knees, pulling Bucky’s briefs down in the process. He kissed along Bucky’s thighs before taking Bucky’s cock into his mouth, licking around the head in once smooth motion and teasing at Bucky’s slit. Steve wrapped his hand firmly at the base and pressed forward, going as far as he could, pumping back and forth, his fist following the sliding of his lips. Pulling back, Steve looked up through his dark lashes, catching Bucky’s eye. His pink lips suctioned around the head of Bucky’s cock, wet and glistening, and Bucky let his head drop back, digging his flesh hand into Steve’s hair.

“God, Steve…”

Steve went back in and Bucky groaned, “only you…only you would choose to suck a dick for your own birthday.”

Steve hummed in amusement, sending vibrations throughout Bucky’s entire body. He set his hands on Bucky’s thighs, sliding them up around his cock, through coarse hair, and around to his hips. Steve clamped his hands there, keeping Bucky’s pelvis still as he continued pumping, forcing Bucky in as deep as possible.

Metal fingers rooted into Steve’s hair as Bucky let out a long, low moan.

Pulling back, Bucky’s now hard cock popped out between Steve’s lips, bobbing up to his stomach. Steve rose to his feet, his own hardness pressing painfully against his tight grey boxer briefs. He kissed along Bucky’s collarbones and neck, sucking hard at the soft skin. Bucky slid his hands all over Steve, wherever he could reach, before slipping a hand under his waistband and pulling Steve’s cock out.

“What do you want, Steve? I’m all yours.”

“I just want you.”

Bucky stepped away, pulling the covers of their bed down and patting the mattress. Steve obediently followed, lying on his back and fisting at his own dick, leaking with pre-cum. Bucky set a knee on one side of the bed before slinging his other leg over Steve’s thighs. Dropping low and rolling his hips, Bucky ground his shaft against Steve’s, eliciting a gasp and a moan from Steve’s hot, wet mouth.

Steve removed his hand to spit into it before taking both him and Bucky into his grip. Bucky thrusted against Steve, pumping in and out of his fist, cocks rubbing slickly against one another. Bucky’s hands were planted firmly on the bed at either side of Steve’s head. He bent his elbows, leaning in to kiss at Steve, both of them breathing heavily into each other’s mouths.

Bucky forced his eyes open, looking at Steve who was flushed. “I’m already close. Do you want me to get you off first?”

Steve shook his head, bucking his hips up. “No, I want to watch you.”

Increasing the speed of his thrusts, Bucky asked, “you sure?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathed, licking his lips. “I can hold off.”

Bucky jerkily nodded, increasing his speed pumping in and out of Steve’s hand, pressed tightly against Steve’s own hardness. The feeling of both Steve’s hand and his cock rubbing against him was intoxicating. Bucky thrust faster and faster, becoming increasingly spasmodic as he got closer and closer.

Bucky let out a breathy moan. “Fuck, Steve…fuck…”

“That’s it, Buck,” Steve whispered. “Cum on me.”

Bucky grunted in response, grinding harder and slower against Steve as his mouth fell open and eyes squeezed shut.

“Oh my god…yes…” Bucky groaned. He let out one last, low and drawn out “…fuck, Steve…” before stilling, arms and legs trembling as he shot onto Steve’s stomach and chest. Steve moaned as he watched, stroking Bucky through it.

Bucky let out a shaky sigh, opening unfocused eyes. “How do you…?”

Steve was already painfully close and watching Bucky cum all over him, his face contorted and breaths hitched, almost pushed him over the edge.

“I don’t care, just touch me,” Steve answered, removing his hand.

Bucky scooted down the bed until his face was hovering just above Steve’s twitching cock. Taking Steve in his hand, Bucky wrapped his mouth around him, bobbing up and down. He followed the strokes of his lips with his fist, slow at first, then speeding up until Steve was thrusting his hips up with each push in, gripping tightly at Bucky’s hair with both hands. 

Bucky could tell Steve was about ready to explode as he began whimpering, high pitched and desperate.

“Faster…” Steve managed to get out brokenly. His hands left Bucky’s head to run up his own chest, fingers grazing stiff nipples.  

Removing his mouth, Bucky gasped for air as he continued pumping at Steve with his flesh hand as fast as he could.

Steve’s whining quickened. Aiming Steve’s cock at his own chest, Bucky stroked a few more times, fast and hard, Steve rolling his hips to Bucky’s pace. Steve let out a final breathy, “Bucky…ah…f— _fuck_!” and gushed onto Bucky’s torso and down his hand for a few long seconds, his face screwed up and mouth gaping.

Taking a shuddering breath in, Steve groaned another prolonged “fuck…” Coming down from his climax, he slowly opened his eyes, gazing lazily at Bucky.

“How was that, birthday boy?” He asked.

Steve smiled, face and chest pink, hairline and nose slightly sweaty. “Good.”

Bucky snorted and motioned at his chest with his spattered hand. “I can tell.”

“God,” Steve laughed, running his clean hand down his face and taking a deep breath in and out.

Rolling off the bed, Bucky shuffled into the bathroom, wetting a washcloth with warm water and wiping himself off before cleaning his own mess off Steve’s stomach. Bucky tossed the cloth back into the bathroom and convinced Steve to come wash his hands and brush his teeth before they went to bed. They both put on fresh underwear before lying down, flipping off the lights and sharing a sweet kiss.

Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve from behind, remembering the days where big-spooning Steve was one of the only ways to keep him warm in the winter nights when he was feverish and shivering.

Kissing Steve’s shoulder, Bucky murmured, “happy birthday, my love. 100 years. How ‘bout we shoot for another 100 together?”

Steve craned his neck to glance at Bucky smiling at him. “Buck, there isn’t anything in the world I want more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Steve's birthday, friends!  
> This is so fucking cheesy omg kind of sorry, kind of not  
> Hope my depiction of DC/fancy dinner parties/coming out to a crowd was at least semi accurate. Or at least satisfying to read...!  
> My word document of stevebucky stuff is at 55 pages and I can't believe it's that many already! I've been on a roll, so thank you so much to those who have read/commented/kudos-ed on all of them. I'm going to try to keep this up as much as I can! Thank you <3
> 
>  


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